


More Than We Bargained For

by DoubleDebiru



Series: Devilman Baby [1]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Childbirth, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, I don't think Ryo is Satan this time, Lots of Crying, M/M, Mild Gore, Rough Sex, graphic birth, kidfic?, rapid pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleDebiru/pseuds/DoubleDebiru
Summary: Ryo usually enjoyed helping his boyfriend ride out his demonic urges, but this time, Akira lost control, and the two of them gained something else.(Completely rewritten (except the epilogue)! New content! More fluff! Better prose! *throws confetti*)





	1. Something Was Horribly Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to skip the graphic birth scene, go to the next chapter after the line "He lied still, breathing heavily."

As time went on, Akira’s cycle became predictable. Over the course of five or six days, demonic energy would build and build inside him until he was forced to release it in a burst of violence or sex. It grew ordinary, like a routine, and being a creature of habit, Ryo appreciated that.

Yesterday, his cycle had peaked once again. Today, they lied snuggled together on the couch, tangled and warm under a blanket. Some movie played on the television, but Ryo barely paid attention. The heat and comfort that radiated from Akira's body, the way he idly played with his hair, the steady thudding of his heartbeat, all of it proved to be much too distracting.

Not that he minded. In fact, he found himself slowly drifting off, utterly content to be right where he was.

He woke to a few gentle shakes, a whisper of his name, and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, I’m gonna go on a walk. Will you be alright?”

He nodded then stretched with a yawn, but he almost whined at the loss of contact when he got up. More interested in Akira’s change of heart than in the movie, he watched him get ready to leave, throwing on a hoodie and slipping on his sneakers.

But something seemed off. He breathed a little heavy, chest heaving like he’d been running. His skin glistened with sweat, a flush dusted over his tan cheeks.

He was about to ask him what was wrong, why he was leaving, but he tossed the jacket back off and slunk out the door too quickly for him to get anything out.

Ryo wasn’t stupid. At least, he’d prefer to think he wasn’t. His boyfriend appeared to be in the throes of a demon-fueled ‘heat’. All the telltale signs were present, all except one.

Namely, the timing.

He’d been more than satisfied by the fun they’d had less than twenty four hours ago, and he’d assumed the demon would’ve felt the same way, quieted and sated like usual. The pattern was regular, like a horrifically quick menstrual cycle, so this was pretty concerning.

He should’ve gotten up to go grab Akira before he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he settled back down into the cushions and closed his eyes again. He’d figure it out and come back, they’d have a wonderful conclusion to their pleasant night together, and everything would be fine.

 

A knocking on the door, loud and demanding. The credits rolled on the screen as Ryo woke up and shuffled his way over.

He hadn’t locked it after Akira left, and he had his own fucking key, anyway, so what was the problem?

He opened the door, crossed his arms, and opened his mouth to tell him off, but barely a syllable crossed his tongue before he lunged at him.

Forcing him backwards, he ensnared him in a clumsy, messy kiss, all sharp teeth and insistent tongue. His hands roamed over his body, tugging at his hair, his pajamas, before settling over his rear and giving a firm squeeze.

Ryo managed to wrench himself away and took a step back, confused. It usually took time and a lot of coaxing to get him to treat him this roughly. Either this ‘heat’ was particularly intense, or something had changed for the worse, something he didn’t want to even consider, something he’d ruled out as a possibility years ago.

“Akira,” he said, trying to sound calm but authoritative, bringing a hand up and taking another step back. “Slow down. Just give me a -”

He closed the distance between them, grabbing him as a growl rumbled through his body, harsh and low. He’d lost himself in the throes of demonic passion before, but never this quickly, never like this. He should’ve been lucid and coherent, not shoving him towards the couch.

Once he had him on his back, he tore right through his pajamas, fingers molding into claws.

A cold bolt of fear shot up Ryo’s spine. He couldn’t be shifting already, and that didn’t bode well for either of them. He tried to squirm away, but he snatched his wrists and pinned them over his head. He couldn't move as he lavished attention on him, kissing and biting down his neck, almost breaking skin, then over his chest until he reached a pert nipple.

He arched into the contact, barely stifling a moan as Akira rutted against his thigh. He could feel his cock through his jeans, hard and burning hot. When he reached down to free it, Ryo made a last-ditch attempt to escape, writhing against the restraining weight over his body and hold on his wrists. Accidentally, his head cracked against Akira’s, and he yelped in pain.

He froze, mouth still at his breast, then slowly pulled his head up and met his eyes. He grinned, sharp and feral, and dark lines stretched down from his glazed-over eyes.

That fear rushed back full force. He’d never fully transformed during sex before, but he seemed well on his way to doing just that. He pushed down his jeans just enough to let his cock spring out, red and leaking, then dragged it between Ryo’s thighs.

He gasped, not prepared for this. Akira always helped stretch him out, gentle and reverent, like he’d break if he pushed him further.

“Akira, don’t - !”

Ignoring him, or maybe too far gone to even hear him, he rammed himself inside, bottoming out in one merciless stroke.

He wondered if Akira was right, if he would actually break. He hissed at the burning sting between his legs, compelled to try one more time to get away, but he doubted he could. Not with Akira, heavy and muscular, grip too tight to be comfortable, already half-shifted.

But was this really Akira? Had he finally lost to the demon after all these years? His Akira would never hurt him on purpose, would be in tears if he did so on accident. The Akira looming over him was already thrusting, setting a relentless pace.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself stretch around the intrusion again and again. That attention returned to his breasts, and his almost playful bites from before turned to something more dangerous, tongue swirling and fangs teasing his soft flesh.

Sometimes, he suspected he was a bit of a masochist, and now was certainly one of them, the pain slowly melting into pleasure. But it was too much when Akira picked up the pace, pounding harder and harder into him.

His pants and groans took a darker, more animalistic tone, claws dug into Ryo’s wrists, fur tickled his bare skin. More pressing was the sharp pain that burst inside him, making him cry out.

Damn, it really was _all_ of Akira that grew bigger as Devilman.

With every thrust, he shoved him further into the couch, chest rumbling with low growls and moans. He wished he could move, at least rock his hips back, but he was pinned in place. He worried he couldn’t take much more, but he didn’t have to worry for long. All too soon, it reached a fever pitch, and Akira roared as he pressed even further.

Something firm and even larger than his cock pushed inside him. With a curse, Ryo tilted his head back, now knowing through firsthand experience that his boyfriend had a fucking knot.

As warmth bloomed deep inside him, he found himself remembering the French president who died of a heart attack while fucking a prostitute. Was this how he would die, impaled on his monster boyfriend's cock?

He settled over him, rocking softly and moving to nip at and suck bruises into his exposed neck. Ryo tried his hardest to settle, too. They’d presumably be stuck together for a while, so he figured he might as well relax.

“Akira?”

He didn’t respond, and when he caught a glimpse of his face, he could see that his eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide. As far as he could tell, he wasn’t changing back any time soon, which fucking sucked since having a demon cock shoved inside you for long periods of time wasn’t exactly comfortable.

He lied still, breathing heavily. It would’ve been nice if he'd gotten off during this, but it’d been too rough, too quick, focused solely on Akira's pleasure rather than his own. The edge of release slowly faded into discomfort, and he wished Akira would either start fucking him again or pull out and help him in some other way.

But weirdly enough, it sort of felt like he was still coming after all this time. An odd warmth pooled in his stomach, and an achy nausea crept over him. The latter sensation grew much stronger than he expected, and he barely turned his head in time to throw up on the floor rather than all over himself and Akira.

He glanced at where they were still connected to find his stomach slightly bloated, rounding out between them. Was all of that Akira’s cum? Well, there wasn’t anything else it could be, was there? Thinking about it made him feel sick again.

“Akira, pull out. Something’s wrong.” Regardless of whether or not he even _could_ pull out that fucking knot, he had to get through to him somehow.

In response, he received a soft growl, something almost like the sound of a cat purring. It would’ve been cute in a situation where Ryo wasn’t growing more and more bloated and nauseous.

He swallowed back bile and spoke again, desperate, “Akira please! Wake up! Get off of - !”

He grinded down, kissing him. The stretch inside him finally died down, relieving him to the point of tears. When he pulled back, he could see the lines of his face softening, the fur fading back.

“Akira?”

His eyes fluttered shut, and he slumped on top of him, finally letting go of his wrists but still not pulling out. With great effort, he shoved his boyfriend off of him and wriggled off the couch, barely avoiding landing in his own vomit.

He’d have to clean that up later, but for now, he headed towards the bathroom. He didn’t make it very far, falling onto his hands and knees as a wave of pain attacked his stomach. Hesitantly, he reached down and ran his hand over it to find it oddly firm, and he gasped when the pain came back. Was he going crazy, or could he feel himself getting bigger?

Shaky and increasingly confused, he pulled himself to his feet and set off again. Something was horribly wrong with him, and he had no fucking idea what it could be. Maybe it was adrenal crisis, brought on by stress and his fucked up hormones, but he knew what that felt like, and this wasn't right. Surely, it had to be some demonic bullshit.

He figured it would be best if he threw up in the toilet, but he was forced to stop again, throwing up in the hallway, instead.

His throat burned, and tears welled in his eyes. What was happening to him? He only took a few more steps before sinking down to the floor and curling into a ball, the pain too much to bear.

“Ryo?”

His head shot up. Akira, wholly human and awake, stood at the other end of the hall. Apparently, he’d taken a moment to strip the rest of the way naked, and tears streamed down his face as he came closer.

“Ryo, what did I do? Are you alright?” He knelt down at his side and started helping him up. “I just - I lost control, and I -” He froze, staring at his stomach.

“Did I do that?” Eyes wide and concerned, he sniffled.

He was about to respond when another pain gripped him, and he curled into himself, unable to speak or move or think about anything other than how much this fucking hurt.

“You look . . . pregnant,” he whispered, barely cutting through the fog in Ryo's mind.

He managed to glare at him. “Don’t be fucking stupid. That’s imposs-” Was that . . . ? No. No, it couldn’t be. But when it happened again, he could deny it no longer.

Something was _moving_ inside him.

“Ryo?”

Fuck, when had he gotten this huge? And he only grew bigger, writhing in Akira's grasp. “Upstairs . . . The bedroom.”

Thankfully, he didn’t need to explain what he meant. He simply nodded and scooped him into his arms before taking him there. Admitting it to him sounded like torture, but he loved being carried by him. Though it didn’t happen often, he enjoyed having someone so strong and loving and naturally warm hold him and protect him in his arms. Even now, it comforted him.

Carefully, he set him down on the bed and climbed next to him. “What now? Are you really pregnant? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to get anyone else involved in this. I’m pregnant, I guess? But it’s going fast, and I think now we just wait for it to . . .” He swallowed, tearing up once again. “come out.”

Even the thought of that was overwhelming, terrifying. There was no way this was happening. He couldn’t fucking do this. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he -

A sob tore from his throat, and Akira pulled him close, gingerly hugging him. Between shaky breaths and tears, he apologized over and over again.

Ryo hunched over, leaning against him. He whimpered as pain engulfed him and his stomach expanded beneath his hands.

A hand gently ran through his hair. “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck do you think?!” he squeaked out.

 

He stayed with him as the pain got worse. He held him and kissed him, tender and comforting, almost like he was trying to make up for what happened earlier. Ryo shook and groaned, his stomach growing obscenely large. There had to be more than one, he was sure of it. There was no way only one could move this much or make him so big.

He couldn’t stop crying, fear and pain clouding his mind.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He’d never stopped crying, either, since he found him in the hallway, but that didn’t prevent him from trying his best to comfort him. But was it really okay? Could he really do this? Even with Akira’s help, he could get hurt, he could die. And what would they do afterwards? Were these things even human?

Fluid gushed out between his legs. They’d find out soon.

Akira stared at him. “Was that . . . ?”

His capacity for snark was severely limited at the moment, so he gave him a nod instead of telling him that it wasn’t his water that just broke. A great pressure built inside him, and if that meant he had to push, he was going to fucking scream.

If he’d wanted a kid, he would’ve preferred adopting one. And he didn’t think he was in any kind of place in his life where having a kid would be a good idea. How could he take care of a tiny human being totally dependent on him when his boyfriend had to make sure he ate, when he lived in a two-bedroom apartment, when he knew he was a bad person who would definitely fuck up a kid?

As the pressure mounted, becoming overwhelming, he shuddered, refusing to push. This couldn't happen. He didn’t want this. But it didn’t matter. Another contraction washed over him, demanding and unbearable. He pulled himself to his knees, leaning against Akira, and he had no choice but to bear down.

He could feel whatever it was gradually inch downwards, big and heavy. He almost wanted to throw up again. The contractions were relentless, each starting as soon as the last faded. Over and over again, they forced him to strain and groan, grabbing at Akira and pushing hard.

Eventually, it started to burn. “Akira, is it coming?”

He checked him, fingers brushing near his entrance. “I think so. I can’t see it, but you’re . . . you’re, um, bulging.”

Holy shit. That sounded so gross and awful that he had to see for himself. He reached downwards, and sure enough, his entrance bowed outwards in a manner just like he had so vividly described, something resting just behind it. _Bulging._

The burning, the pressure, everything intensified, and Ryo just wanted to fold into himself and cry and just _make it stop_. But unfortunately, the only way to do that was to keep going when the worst part hadn’t even started yet, so he did.

Akira encouraged him, touched him reassuringly, but he barely registered it, too focused on what was happening between his legs. He succumbed to the urge to spread them even wider, moaning as whatever was inside him slipped down.

It opened him wider than anything had before, until it stopped, but it didn’t feel like it was over. “Akira, what . . . what is it?”

“It looks normal, I think? And, uh, the head’s out.”

Oh, normal. That was good. At least they wouldn’t get any weird looks when they gave it up.

When he reached down and felt wet hair, a little nose, all real and still coming out of him, he realized that he couldn’t do that. This whole ordeal was far from natural, and they couldn’t just give away something that could be a horrifying monster, even if it seemed like a normal baby.

He pushed again, and it pressed forward against his hand. The shoulders came slowly, forcing him open again, then a real baby gushed out into Akira’s hands, wet and crying.

He hesitated before taking it from him, apprehension constricting his throat and shaking his limbs. Or maybe that was the exhaustion.

To all appearances, it was a healthy baby boy. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a swirl of dark hair.

“Ryo, what are we gonna do?”

Now, that was a good question. They didn’t have anything for a baby, no diapers or bottles or clothes or toys. Akira was in school, Ryo had work in the morning. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the little thing. Despite himself, something like affection swelled in his chest.

Even if doing this was a bad idea, fuck it, he had money, and he had the kindest, most wonderful person in the world to help him out. If anyone could make this work, it was Akira.

At the thought of asking him if they could keep it, like it was a fucking dog or something, he chuckled a little. But a weaker contraction passed over him. Was there another one, or was this just the afterbirth? He felt around around his stomach, still bloated, but it didn’t seem like anything was there.

“Ryo? Hey, are you alright?”

He shook his head, almost starting to laugh again. No, he wasn’t alright. He was sore and tired, and his body had changed so fast in the course of an hour or two.

If someone had told him that morning that he’d be a parent by the end of the night, he would’ve smacked them. Now, he was connected by a cord to a tiny little baby, squalling and red, and fuck if he didn’t love him.


	2. Way Too Much For One Night

Normally, it would take a medical emergency, a lot of convincing, or usually both, to get Ryo to go to the hospital. Though this situation couldn’t be considered normal, it certainly was an emergency, meaning only one part of the equation remained.

“Ryo, we have to go to the hospital.”

He groaned, scooting away from him. “I’m fine. If we have to, we can go in the morning.”

Both of them, no, all three of them sat naked on a ruined bed way too early in the morning. Akira knew he had every right to be tired, to not want to go anywhere, but this was serious.

He let out a shaky sigh, too tired and freaked out to properly fill the role of professional Ryo-wrangler. “I’m sorry, but please, Ryo. I don't know if the shot was enough, and maybe you're still in crisis, or it could get worse, or -"

"I'm fine." He repeated, even though he'd injected himself with hydrocortisone merely a few minutes before. Soon after all that . . . happened, Ryo had blanched and asked him to get his shot from the drawer. Akira had tried doing it for him, but he couldn't stop shaking or worrying about fucking it up, and it must've been obvious on his face, since Ryo quickly took it from him, giving him the baby to hold instead.

He'd held him for only a moment previously, but there he was again in arms, something small and red with remnants of birth clinging to his tiny form even after towelling him down. A living thing that he'd inflicted upon Ryo, that caused him immense pain, that drew his blood. How could he have done this? Why couldn't he prevent himself from hurting someone he loved?

As questions battered at his tired and fraying mind, Ryo finished and took the baby back, leaning back into the pillows.

Presently, Akira tried again to convince him to go. "Even if you’re fine, and I don’t think you are, what if he’s not?”

The little thing lied curled on Ryo’s chest, fast asleep.

“Looks fine to me,” he murmured, eyes closed.

“But you’re not a doctor.”

He said something in reply, but Akira couldn’t quite make it out.

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘Shut up.’ I don’t wanna hear it. Just leave me alone.”

He winced a little, even though he hadn’t snapped at him or spoken loudly. He thought he’d thoroughly cried himself out, but tears started welling in his eyes again.

He could only vaguely remember what happened, but he knew he’d done something unspeakably awful. Maybe Ryo hated him, maybe he could never fix this. And now, they had a baby when they’d never had a real conversation about getting married let alone having a kid.

He’d been too embarrassed to bring it up, but he’d thought about about it before. Settling down with Ryo, starting a family, finding some way to juggle that with all the demon-hunting and shit. With the way things were going, it seemed almost inevitable.

He loved him so much. Sometimes, he thought he always had.

As he wiped at his eyes, he felt the mattress dip down, then Ryo was there in front of him, holding the baby and looking up at him, expression like he had something to say. To his surprise, he leaned forward and kissed him.

“I didn’t mean that. Let’s just go before I change my mind, alright?”

~

The harsh glow of the city glided through the car, casting inky shadows wherever it left or couldn’t reach. Its daytime hustle and bustle had long been quieted, leaving behind an atmosphere somewhere between heady and uneasy.

Repeatedly, he glanced over at Ryo. They’d rushed to leave, wanting to get this over with and go to sleep as quickly as possible. His hair was hopelessly mussed, he was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing anything under that baggy sweatshirt, and he nodded off partway through the trip. But before that, his eyes were fixed on the sleeping baby in his lap, bundled up in a spare blanket. He looked so awestruck, smoothing his small amount of hair or touching his little hands or face.

He was so ridiculously beautiful, and it was tempting to stare, but he tore his gaze back to the road each time, feeling like that would be a dumb way to get in an accident.

Seeing him affected like this, he almost felt guilty for feeling guilty. He seemed to be coping with this remarkably well for something so unexpected and almost certainly unwanted, but you'd never guess the latter by looking at him.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he turned to him once again. “Hey, we’re here,” he whispered, but it wasn’t enough to rouse him. “Ryo?”

He brushed the bangs from his face then gently nudged his shoulder.

Ryo glanced around, seemingly gaining his bearings, until he spotted the brightly-lit building nearby. He sighed, positively scowling, and Akira thought it was achingly cute.

“If everything’s fine, we won’t be here for long. Come on,” he said, then helped him out of the car.

*

“If they make me stay the night, you’re dead, Akira.” It was painful enough that he had to go there at all, to a bright, unnatural place of sickness and death and people who didn’t give a shit about him.

Akira chuckled and held him a little tighter, guiding him into the building. They stopped at the reception desk, and the lady behind it gave them an odd look.

“My boyfriend, he didn’t know he was pregnant, and, uh . . .”

Admittedly a good cover-up. But what lingered in his mind was that it sounded so nice when Akira called him his boyfriend.

Alarmed, the lady sent them to the emergency section of the hospital. There, he was separated from Akira and the baby, examined and fussed over, then given paperwork and booklets and nonsense he didn’t have the energy to deal with. Being referred to as ‘Miss Asuka’ wasn't fun, but legally changing his gender required bottom surgery and sterilization, which was insanely fucked up.

At one point, they asked if they could run some procedures on and vaccinate the baby, and he gave his consent.

With a shock, he realized that if the baby really was his and not some kind of weird, mostly-Akira, demon-thing, then it was possible he had CAH just like him, since it was genetic. It affected the sexes differently, so at least they wouldn’t try to perform any kind of corrective surgery on the tiny little thing, but maybe he’d have to take hormonal treatments and shit for the rest of his life.

But if they really did have the gall to suggest doing the former for whatever reason while he was still a fucking baby, Ryo would lose his shit, do everything in his power to prevent that from happening until he could decide for himself.

Thankfully, the hospital didn’t say anything was wrong with either of them. In fact, they were apparently doing so well that they could just go home, which seemed to surprise the doctor. Apparently, most people stayed in the hospital for at least a few days after giving birth, and Ryo had a feeling their good condition had something to do with demonic bullshit. After all, shouldn't his uterus have ruptured in the midst of it? He had to have been somehow protected.

When they were all set, they told him to get plenty of rest and handed him a little box containing what was left of the umbilical cord. He hadn’t heard of that tradition before, but he accepted it with a nod.

Back in the car, the baby was awake again, fussy but not bawling. The hospital dressed him in a diaper and gave them back the blanket. Settling in the seat, Ryo wrapped it around him and held him close.

“We need a car seat, don’t we?”

He gave Akira a sideways glance as the car started to move. “We need a lot of shit, Akira.” He leaned back, closing his eyes. “But frankly, I’m too tired to care right now. When we get home, we’re gonna figure out what we need, make a list, then you’re gonna go out and get it while I go the fuck to sleep.”

He winced every time Ryo cursed. “Stop talking like that.”

“Or what?” He smirked, not opening his eyes. “Worried his first word will be ‘fuck’ instead of ‘Dada’?” He moved his hand, stroking the little guy's back. “Babies are stupid. He has no idea what I’m saying.”

Akira huffed, but didn’t actually reply.

 

Alone with the baby, he lied in Akira’s bed, his own too soiled at the moment. This used to be a rather unnecessary guest bedroom, but that changed when Akira moved in. Between all the demon crap, he was trying to get a degree in education.

He loved kids, and now he had one of his own.

Too bad the little fucker refused to go to sleep. Ryo tried everything, hushing him, rocking him, even quietly singing, embarrassment heating his face. He’d slept earlier just fine, so what was the problem now? He didn’t smell, but that didn’t make sense since he hadn’t eaten anything yet.

_Oh._

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he noticed the baby mouthing at his chest. There shouldn’t have been anything there, but then again, neither should this baby. He lifted up his over-large sweatshirt and drew him closer.

Before, he’d been focused on his stomach, the pain, then the baby, but maybe his breasts had been affected, too. They felt oddly heavy. And his suspicion was confirmed when the baby latched on. First, an uncomfortable tugging, then a wave of sensation, something like a tingling pressure being released, swept over him.

He wasn’t sure he liked it, but the baby seemed happy, kneading with little hands and suckling at his breast. It took a while and a few false finishes for him to be done, then he nuzzled into his chest, finally sleepy.

They needed to figure out a name sometime soon. They didn’t get a chance to register the pregnancy, seeing as it lasted about as long as a feature-length film. But now, they had a birth certificate they needed to fill out.

Ryo looked down at him, struck by how much he looked like Akira. Well, maybe a scrunched-up, ruddier Akira.

Heh.

Introducing Akira 2.0! Now compressed into a convenient, travel-ready package!

He wished Akira was back so he could hear this bullshit. Instead, he could only giggle to himself like he was crazy. And maybe he was, and this was just the weirdest dream he’d ever had. But he hadn’t taken any drugs recently, and there certainly was something small and warm resting on top of him.

Besides, his life was weird enough before this. His boyfriend regularly turned into a big, fluffy demon to fight other, less handsome demons. It was like the goriest, gayest shonen manga ever.

Still smiling, he gingerly maneuvered Akira 2.0 so he could pull his clothes back on then settled him comfortably again. He closed his eyes, exhaustion getting the better of him.

*

“Repeat that again. Slowly,” said Miki on the other end of the line. Akira called her as soon as he left the apartment.

He paced back and forth next to the car. “Ryo. We didn’t know he was pregnant, and he just had a baby, and I need some help shopping for him.” He was kind of proud of his stupid lie, but the truth didn’t make any more sense. In fact, it probably made less.

“I’ll be right over.” She hung up.

The truth of the matter. Why had he lost control like that? He couldn’t let it happen again, not when it caused Ryo so much pain. The whole situation was like something out of a horror movie. He turned into a demon, fucked his boyfriend like an enraged sex zombie, then knocked him up with an adorable demon baby.

He had to be part demon or devilman or something along those lines. It had happened so fast, it wasn’t natural. But wouldn’t the hospital have told them if something was wrong?

Wait, the hospital definitely wasn’t equipped to deal with or detect anything demonic, but that only worried him more, since there was no easy way to figure this out.

It would take a while for Miki to get there. He was tempted to wait for her inside but decided against it, sitting in the car to get out of the chill. He didn’t want to bother Ryo, who needed some rest after what he’d been through, after what Akira put him through.

Tears stung his eyes for what must’ve been the fiftieth time that night. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Ryo. He loved him, truly and deeply. He was his best friend, and he enjoyed their time together so much, whether they were making each other laugh over stupid shit, fighting demons, or doing anything at all. Logical, snarky, and book-smart, he knew that deep down he was just a scared, impulsive, lonely kid who missed his dad and cared deeply about the world around him, even when he got a little caught up in his own head.

He became a demon for him without question. He wanted to protect him so badly, but now, he was scared that Ryo needed to be protected _from_ him. The thought was like a knife twisting in his chest.

He rubbed at his face, furiously trying to push these feelings back down. He needed to talk to him, but he couldn’t at the moment. For now, it was best to focus on the task at hand.

Yawning, he realized he hadn’t caught what time it was when he was on his phone earlier. He pulled it out again, and 3:30 blinked up at him in white.

He cringed a little, sorry for waking Miki up, for keeping Ryo up this long.

He glanced at the date, suddenly important now that it was his child’s birthday. January 19th.

He closed his eyes. This was way too much for one night.

When someone knocked on the window, he jolted hard. He rolled it down, and Miki leaned in, glaring at him.

“Akira, what the fuck?”

 

They went to every store still open, grabbing enough to tide them over for at least a couple weeks. At a clothes rack, Miki chided him for picking out a few girl’s outfits, but they had little rabbits on them, and Akira didn’t care. Who said rabbits and pastels had to only be for girls, anyway? It was nonsense, and he knew Ryo wouldn’t mind, either.

When they finally parted ways, she hugged him and mentioned that her family could help with the baby’s oshichiya.

He hadn’t even thought about that and nearly cursed aloud at having yet another thing to worry about.

After carrying the bags inside, he found Ryo sleeping in his bed with the baby. Not wanting to disturb them, he decided to clean the apartment.

Luckily, there hadn’t been much blood drawn during the earlier ordeal, but even the faint scent of it stirred the demon inside him when he stepped into Ryo’s room. Annoyed, he shoved it down and set to work bundling the sheets and tossing them in the laundry. He scrubbed the vomit stains from the floor and took the trash bin that contained the afterbirth out to the dumpster. He shuddered when he remembered how some people would eat theirs.

When the washing machine buzzed, he transferred the sheets to the dryer then proceeded to pass out on a chair nearby.


	3. Good Morning, Baby

"There we go, it's okay now," said Akira, voice seeming too loud in the quiet, dim bedroom. He held the baby close, finally calm after a brief ordeal involving scrambling around with diapers and wipes.

He couldn't help but stare, finding that maybe his tiny face looked quite a bit like his own. This was real. He really had done this to Ryo, and it fucking hurt, and -

Wait. Was he seeing things, or did his little ears stick out like Ryo's? An odd wave of relief swept over him along with an incredulity at his own mindset. He was a baby,  _their baby_ _,_ not a representation of his pain and guilt and mistakes. Ryo was obviously taken with the little thing, and being a baby, that was all he deserved: love and attention. From Akira, too.

It couldn't be that hard. He was pretty cute, after all. But maybe not so cute when unhappy. The fussing started up again, of course.

*

Ryo woke up to the baby crying. However, he quickly realized he wasn’t holding him anymore and almost panicked. He was about to pat all around the bed and look like a lunatic when he saw Akira standing nearby.

He faced away from him, but he obviously had the baby. What did he call him last night? Right, Akira 2.0. He rocked Akira 2.0 back and forth in an admirable attempt to comfort him, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“Hey, Akira?”

He turned and tried to smile, but it came out tired and frustrated. “Good morning. How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better.” An understatement. He felt like total ass, sore and aching and all-around weird. He sat up then stretched with a groan. “Could you bring him here?”

Obediently, he complied.

“Good morning, baby. What’s the matter?” He wasn’t wet or smelly. In fact, his diaper appeared to have switched brands overnight. “You changed him? All by yourself?”

He sat on the bed. “Yeah, but he’s upset again.”

He looked him over. “I’m surprised it’s not backwards.” He looked again. “At least, I think it’s not backwards.”

Sheepishly, Akira rubbed the back of his neck. “I had to look up how to do it.”

His first thought was to tease him, crack a joke about being useless without the internet, but he had a better idea. “Well, I’m proud of you. You used the resources available to you, and you helped out. Good job, Daddy.” He grinned as Akira reeled back, flushing bright red.

Before he could figure out a response to that, Ryo turned his attention back to the baby. He’d calmed a little, settling in his lap. “Maybe he's hungry.”

Seemingly recovered but still a bit quiet, Akira said, “Oh, we have formula. Do you want me to -” He stopped, staring as Ryo lifted up his sweatshirt. “You can do that?”

He almost snorted. “No, of course not.” Though breastfeeding felt incredibly weird and almost painful, he thought he might as well try it a few times then switch to formula if that was easier. “Doesn’t it usually take a while to get milk? Like while you’re pregnant? It must be a side effect of whatever the hell happened.”

Akira looked down, eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ryo cut him off.

“Don’t say you’re sorry again. It’s fine. There’s nothing you can do about it now.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” He looked on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t control myself. It’s like I wasn't me. If I . . .” He clenched his fists, and the tears came rolling down his cheeks. “If it happens again, you need to stop me. A gun, a knife, chains. I don’t care. I just don’t wanna hurt you again.”

“Chains? That’s pretty kinky. You’d just break them, Akira.”

That flush colored his face again, and he looked away, wiping at his eyes.

Ryo was on a fucking roll today. Maybe sarcasm and assholery was just a way to keep his sanity during all of this, but he had to admit it was fun watching Akira squirm. And it was certainly better than seeing him upset and hurting. “Maybe next time, I’ll make sure to take it up the ass, instead.”

He sputtered. “Ryo! I’m serious!”

The baby pulled off, and he was glad it was over until the little thing dove right back in.

“You promised that if the demon took over, you’d kill me. If that’s not what happened last night, I dunno what did.”

“Akira . . .” He sighed. He wasn’t going to fucking kill him. He couldn’t. He’d controlled this for so long, and deep down, he was still Akira. Ryo felt like nothing could change that. “Come here for a second. I can’t move with this thing on me.”

He came closer, scooting next to him on the bed, on the side where a little parasite wasn’t latched onto him.

He rested his head on his shoulder, grateful for his presence, his warmth. “I’m not doing that. I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too. That’s why I hate this so much.” He turned and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

 

Ryo felt fucking gross, like someone had rubbed a slice of pizza in his hair then made him run a mile with grease dripping down his back. And that wasn’t even mentioning the soreness and weirdness inside him.

He wished he could have a word with whichever ancestor of his was responsible for giving him big pores and anxiety sweats. Why couldn’t he be one of those lucky bastards who could shower every other day and look fine?

At least his boyfriend didn’t seem to mind much, staying with him as the baby nursed, gently taking his free hand. But he resolved to take a shower as soon as this little thing was done.

“Wait. Akira, what time is it?”

He moved, presumably to glance at the alarm clock beside the bed. “It’s eight, but I’m not going to school today. I already emailed my professors.”

He closed his eyes, tempted to bang his head on the headboard. He still needed to call in and figure out his maternity leave.

The baby shifted. Oh, was he done for real this time? He waited for it to start again, and when it didn’t, he sighed in relief, leaning further against Akira.

“Ryo, you’re supposed to burp a baby after feeding them.”

Shit, he’d forgotten about that. Wasn’t there some kind of consequence for not doing it? He was clueless when it came to babies. “Do you know how to do that?”

“Lemme see.”

He handed him over, and Akira gently rubbed and patted his little back.

Ah, freedom. “That’s it. I’m taking a shower.” He got up but paused, looking at the baby. “Shouldn’t we wash him, too?”

“Can we figure that out later, after I take a shower, too?”

“Yeah, just watch him while I’m gone.”

 

Ryo took a while in the shower. Not to avoid Akira or the baby, not to waste all the hot water. It just felt so nice to have warm water pounding against him, easing his sore, exhausted body. He still couldn’t believe that a baby, a real live baby, had come out of him. It was fucking surreal. At least they’d both survived.

He covered his face with his hands, horrified at the thought of a miscarriage or stillbirth, especially a sudden, demonic one. This could’ve gone so much worse.

Thankfully, he was home, and everything was sort of alright.

When he went to get dressed, he found his bed stripped bare. It was nice of Akira to clean the sheets, but they’d probably have to be replaced. He wasn’t sure how well amniotic fluid and blood would wash out.

But this wasn’t a huge problem, though. They often ended up in one bed or the other, anyway. Usually not in the sexual sense.

He preferred binding his chest, but that didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment, so he put on some loose, shitty clothes then went back to Akira’s room.

There, the baby had fallen asleep in Akira’s arms. Typical. All he could do was eat, shit, and sleep.

Akira smiled at him from the bed and spoke softly, “Hey, are you hungry? I could make something or go grab something. Whatever you’d like.”

After a moment of thought, he said, “Get me a McGriddle, and we’re even.”

He looked confused. “Even?”

“For, uh,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “this.”

When his expression didn’t change, he sat next to him on the bed, careful not to disturb the baby. “Relax. I’m joking. It won’t take shitty fast food for me to forgive you.” He shifted a little closer. “I already do. I love you.”

Teary-eyed, he tried to protest, but Ryo wouldn’t let him.

“No buts. You weren’t in control of your actions.”

He chuckled, blinking away tears. “Is that what you’d say if I got drunk off my ass and did something to you?”

“Definitely not. It’s my fault, anyway, for dragging you into this mess in the first place.” He realized something and paused, smirking.

“What?”

“Watch your language, hypocrite.”

~

Ryo watched as Akira washed the baby, gently, ever so gently scrubbing him clean in the bathroom sink. When he finished, he dried him off then dressed him in a diaper and a little white onesie. He struggled a bit, but they’d both gotten way better at it already.

He thought he didn’t like babies. Or kids in general, for that matter. They often annoyed him, so he avoided interacting with them, not wanting to hurt the feelings of some kid who didn’t mean any harm. But this little thing was _his_ , and he was snuggling into the arms of the person he cared about the most. Second-most, at this rate.

Akira made plans for the Makimuras to celebrate his oshichiya with them. He could only vaguely remember Taro’s, but he assured him that it’d be fun and that there’d be good food.

He told him it was a naming ceremony, and the baby already had a name far less stupid than Akira 2.0, but they weren’t supposed to say it out loud until then, when he was seven days old.

He didn’t say he couldn’t think his name, but it was still hard for him to accept that Kohei was real, that Kohei was theirs. Maybe thinking of him as ‘the baby’ or ‘that little thing’ spared him the weight of reality.

But that weight sat heavy on his shoulders regardless. What the hell happened three nights ago? Why did the baby exist? Was he actually a demon or something? He wished he had answers, but he’d never heard of anything like this in all his research into demons. If there was a section on demonic reproduction in his father’s journals, it was gone by the time he got to them. He guessed they’d just have to wait and see if anything weird happened.

Weirder, that is.

For now, it was the weekend, and he was content to hang out with Akira and the baby before the former got ready to go back to the store. It felt weird being cooped up at home with the baby, but it wasn’t like the little thing could do much on his own. He tried to relax, but it was probably hard for both of them to fully do so.

In just a few more days, Akira’s demonic urges were due to boil over once again. Hopefully, it would be manageable and somewhat normal like before, but what if it wasn’t?

Ryo didn’t want to think about that. And luckily, Akira broke him out of his thoughts, asking, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, but what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

He’d lifted the baby up high, grinning. If he dared try to do what Ryo thought was doing, he was going to get his ass kicked.

“Akira, don’t toss him. He’s a newborn, and he can’t even laugh yet. I doubt he’d enjoy it.”

He brought him back down, and he immediately started crying.

“See? Look what you did.” He took him and hushed him. “Aw, did Daddy try to kill you? Poor baby.” He glared at Akira only to find him smiling, something tender in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing. I just love you, and I'm glad you’re okay.”


	4. A Break And Some Fresh Air

The night before Kohei’s oshichiya, his dads found themselves staying up late, having trouble putting him to sleep. It wasn’t surprising, seeing as he was only a newborn, but it wasn’t exactly fun, either.

So, hushed, tired conversations filled the dark of Akira’s bedroom.

They laughed a bit over how they were just so fucking lost when it came to caring for a tiny human being. There was just so much to figure out and learn, and every day felt like a new disaster waiting to happen. It was sort of like being taught a new language, but instead of giving them a textbook or a tutor, life had dropped them off a thousand miles from home.

But at least they were together. And they had people they could turn to for advice, though that was mostly just Akiko. It certainly helped, but the real thing was an entirely different beast.

Speaking of beasts, they had to address the issue of Akira’s demonic urges. Specifically, his distinct lack of them.

“The last time was pretty fucking weird. Maybe you just drained yourself out,” Ryo reassured him. They both sat on the bed, and Ryo held the baby close, having given up on leaving him in the crib hours ago. They placed it in the same room to keep him nearby, so it was only a few feet away, but tonight, the distance seemed insurmountable. Either the journey would wake him or the loneliness of the crib.

“Maybe, but it doesn't feel right.” He hadn’t fought or fucked anything since Kohei was born. The demon should’ve been screaming at him to do either or both by now, but there was only a dull murmur in the back of his mind.

“Well, I thought you’d prefer this. You’ve said before that it’s not fun sharing a body with a demon, and I believe you.”

“Yeah, but like, it was normal. I got used to it.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m worried ‘cause it changed. What if something’s wrong?”

“We already know something’s wrong, Akira. I’m -” Kohei whimpered, moving again, and Ryo huffed a small sigh, tilting his head back until it tapped the headboard. He finished, even quieter than before, “I’m worried, too, but we’ve got a lot to worry about, don’t we?”

He nodded, realized it might not have been seen in the dark, then hummed in agreement.

When the whimpering didn’t stop, Akira nudged him and said, “Hey, could I try for a minute?”

That minute turned into the rest of the night, cradling the tiny little thing against his chest, but he didn’t mind.

Some days, he felt stretched thin, like he’d cared all he could about the world and his heart didn’t have the capacity for more. But time and time again, something would happen, someone would come along, and he’d have even more to protect and love.

*

The recipe for Asuka Ryo to enjoy himself at a party contained three specific ingredients: good food, the company of whoever he came with, and hanging out with any pets of the host.

The food Mrs. Makimura made for the ceremony checked off the first item, warm and delicious. Sekihan, fish, and other dishes were spread across the table in a tantalizing display.

The Makimuras’ cat, Tako, certainly checked off the third item, mewling for attention before dinner and gladly melting into the pets Ryo gave him.

However, there was a little trouble with the second item. He’d arrived with two people he loved very much, but the baby fell asleep during the car ride over and hadn’t woken up since, and he couldn’t expect Akira to focus solely on him. Not when he was having such a good time, surrounded by people he loved.

The Makimuras used to be wary of him, honestly for good reason, but because Akira trusted him and kept him around, they gradually warmed up to him. But that made him feel all the worse for not returning that warmth.

He couldn’t shake a pervasive sense of unease around them. They treated him kindly, patiently accepting his quiet spells and awkward behavior. But something always whispered in his ear, insisting he didn’t belong there.

He had no reason to be nervous. He was painfully aware of how irrational it was. But he found himself shrinking backwards in his seat, pulling his baby a little closer, selfishly wishing he could just go home.

He hadn’t noticed that he’d spaced out until Akira nudged his shoulder, and with a start, he realized he’d been trying to talk to him.

“Hey, are you alright? Do you wanna go outside for a minute?”

Shit. Everyone here was talking and laughing and having fun, and Akira had been enjoying himself, and of course, Ryo had to fuck it up. He just had to make him worried and make the Makimuras look at him with fucking pity in their eyes.

After letting Mrs. Makimura take the baby, Akira guided him outside. They stood together on the front porch, the light of the house keeping the night at bay but doing nothing to stop the chill. Ryo fiddled with the sleeves of his turtleneck, pulling his hands into the fabric to warm them up.

He stared at the ground and didn’t bother to stop stupid, unnecessary words from pouring from his mouth. “I’m sorry, Akira. I’m such a fuck-up, and I need to be more normal, and I’m ruining this for you, and -”

He pulled him into a tight embrace, warm and loving. “Everything’s fine. You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand that this kind of thing is hard for you.”

He always understood. He always waited for him with open arms. He was always there for him, so it shouldn’t have made him so emotional. But he pressed closer to him, wetting his shirt with tears.

“Why are you crying?” He pulled back and brushed away some of the wetness on his cheeks with his thumb, tears welling in his own eyes.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He sniffled, avoiding Akira’s gaze.

He smiled and tilted Ryo’s chin up. “You don’t look fine. You know you can tell me anything, right?” He leaned in and kissed him, short and sweet.

“I just . . .” Lips still nearly brushing his, he tried to order his thoughts into something that made sense. “You really do care about me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Why?”

He hugged him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t know how good it feels to know that.”

 

After a long moment outside spent calming down and drinking in each other’s presence, they returned to the party. The baby had woken up, thankfully calm and quiet. Mrs. Makimura handed him back, and he sat down with him again, situating him comfortably and smoothing his hair. Thin and impossibly soft, if left unattended, it stood up wildly, begging Ryo to mess with it.

In accordance with the ceremony, the little thing was bundled in white, and a sheet of white and gold cardstock with his name, birthday, and other information sat nearby. Mrs. Makimura had helped Akira with the lettering, but it still turned out kind of messy.

“Asuka Kohei? That’s a wonderful name! I’m so happy for you two!” Miki had said earlier, but he had a feeling she would’ve said that no matter what name they chose.

They recieved gifts for the baby, blankets and toys, and some cash for his dads, too. Akira thanked them profusely, getting a little choked up. He’d dressed up for the occasion, but not much. Just a blue dress shirt thrown over his usual dark jeans. It flattered him, but Ryo didn’t have much time to appreciate that.

It quickly grew late, and soon, they said their goodbyes and headed home again. The apartment seemed quiet and much too empty after the party, but he couldn’t say he minded all too much. He knew a certain someone would soon make sure the opposite was true.

However, he wasn’t quite ready to take that someone upstairs to put him to bed, so he plopped down with him on the couch. And would it really be so bad if they fell asleep here, instead? The little thing was already nodding off, the couch was pretty comfortable, and most importantly, what if he tripped on the stairs?

“Come on. We’re going to bed.” Slowly, carefully, Akira took the baby from him and left.

With a groan, he got up then followed him.


	5. Poor Kohei

“Akira, could you hand me the tissues?” The baby had caught a cold, and his poor little nose ran like a faucet. He sneezed, and more snot came dribbling down.

Akira looked around to no avail. “Shit, it looks like we’re out.”

“Get some toilet paper, then. Hurry up!”

He scurried out of sight.

Ryo sniffled, adjusting the baby’s position on his lap. Of course, he’d gotten sick, too, and it was only a matter of time before all three of them would be sniffling and snotting their brains out. Why did he have to be born in the middle of flu season?

He seemed too little to be sick, and certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying it. His little face turned an irritated red, his nose kept crusting up, and he even sounded congested. But he didn’t have a fever, which was nice.

Akira had wanted to take him to their local shrine for his omiyamairi after his one-month checkup, but they’d decided to wait until this cold passed. Thankfully, the hospital said he was perfectly healthy otherwise.

When Akira came back and wiped his face, he tried to twist and turn away from him, getting upset. He hushed him and held him still, trying to finish a little faster. They’d discovered that he really didn’t like having his nose wiped, but neither of them were entirely sure why.

“Could you go out and get more tissues? You’re the only one here who’s not dying.”

He laughed at him. Bastard. “Neither of you are dying. I’ll make sure of it.” He squeezed him tight.

He made a noise and tried to push him away, but being much stronger than him and a devilman made that too difficult, so he failed horribly. “Hey, get off! Are you trying to get sick?”

He let go and pecked him on the cheek. “Maybe.”

“Oh, really?” With a grin, he lifted the baby face-to-face with Akira. “Come on, you little snot-goblin. Get Daddy sick.”

In mock-terror, he shrank back, but he laughed as Ryo shuffled closer. “No! Don’t let him get me!”

The baby reached for him, eyes curious but hands still curled into fists. Ryo thought it was funny, maybe kind of cute, how he didn’t unfurl them often. Sometimes, he’d gently work them open and see those little fingers stretched out, but he immediately closed them again each time.

When Akira couldn’t scoot back any further, he kissed the tip of his little nose with an exaggerated “Chu!”

Ryo laughed and finally pulled him back, something light and giddy swirling in his chest.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.” He got ready to leave, and at the bedroom door, he looked back and waved.

“Bye-bye!” Ryo said in sing-song, waving back. He lost all shame around Kohei a while ago.

Akira already finished his classes for the day, but he’d have to go to work soon. Though Japan didn’t have paternity leave, it did have child care leave, which could last until a day before the baby turned one. However, that started when maternity leave ended, eight weeks after birth.

As for Ryo, though he’d love it if demon hunting was his only job, it didn’t exactly pay well, and he couldn’t make his father’s money last forever. Not with the payments for the car and the apartment. He planned on taking full advantage of his child care leave, but he’d have to go back to his real job, environmental engineering for different companies, eventually.

His job wasn’t the most enjoyable or rewarding. It often meant he was stuck in an office, going mad over projects and deadlines. And it felt pointless sometimes, like humanity had irrevocably fucked the world, but at least he could try to slow that fucking.

Akira came back while he was changing the baby, grocery bag in tow. It looked like he had more than just tissues, but Ryo wasn’t sure they needed anything else at the moment.

“See? Nobody died while I was gone.” He hugged him in greeting when he finished.

He shrugged out of it, smiling. “Not true. Thousands of people died, Akira. All around the world.”

“But you didn’t.”

Deciding to ignore his adorably tender tone, he asked, “What’s in the bag?” But before he could lean over to peek in, Akira emptied it, setting down a few boxes of tissues and a tub of cookie dough ice cream.

“Thought this might help. Ice cream’s the best medicine, right?”

That was sweet of him, but it had no business upstairs. “Why didn’t you put it away, doofus?”

He leaned closer, eyes soft and a laugh in his voice. “What, I can’t say ‘hi’ when I get back?”

He felt like he should’ve been annoyed, but he adored his stupid, cute boyfriend and more than gladly let him enter his space again. “You can, but you also need to put shit where it goes before it melts.”

Akira kissed him, brief and chaste, before greeting the baby then leaving with the ice cream.

*

Akira’s ‘heat’ crept back like the heat of summer, slowly wavering between seasons before settling on unbearably sweltering. He refused to tell Ryo or let him help, terrified of losing control and hurting him again.

He never lingered close to him for long, hoping he didn’t notice a change in his behavior. He tried to find another outlet to release his excess energy, flying up high at night, leaving gouging claw marks in trees, masturbating over and over again. But nothing was ever enough. He just wanted Ryo, his soft, mouth-watering curves, his pretty face twisted in pleasure, his long fingers, his slender limbs, his warmth all around him.

He only made it two days before Ryo confronted him.

“Akira, look at me.” After putting the baby to sleep, he dragged him into the other bedroom.

He ripped his gaze from the floor and met his eyes, cool blue shining in the dark.

“You’re you right now. I know it.” He took a step closer, coming within Akira's reach. “You wouldn’t have tried so hard to hide it if you weren’t.”

He knew he was right, but fear rooted him in place. He didn’t trust himself to even move, not sure what he would do if he let loose.

“Relax. Don’t you want to take care of this before it gets even worse?” His voice was soft and low, dipping into territories so sultry that it almost hurt to keep himself restrained.

He nodded, breath getting heavier, self-control fraying.

“Then let go, Akira. It’ll be fine, I promise.” He took one of Akira’s hands and lifted it to his cheek, nuzzling against it like a cat. _You can touch me without hurting me_ , said the look in his eyes, the upturn of his lips.

Something snapped within him, and he pulled Ryo against him, nearly melting into a deep kiss. He barely held himself back from grinding into him, already achingly hard at the prospect of ending all this tension, of having Ryo this way.

He pulled back, needing to breathe, and took in the sight of Ryo flushed and panting to gain his breath back.

“That’s it,” he whispered, “Come here.” He beckoned him to the bed. Once there, he tugged on the bottom of Akira’s shirt, and he quickly caught the cue, undressing and tossing his clothes into the dark.

He couldn’t help but stare as Ryo did the same, albeit with patience Akira was losing fast. Impossibly, his figure felt softer, fuller than before, and he dove in to get a taste as soon as his pants came off. Gently, he pushed him to lie flat on the mattress, hands pressing into his hips, and kissed between his breasts, down his stomach until . . .

Wait a second. Dark ribbons flowed down the lower half of his stomach, a slightly different texture from the rest of his skin. He traced a jagged path with his finger, astonished that he hadn’t seen these marks before. He glanced up at his face, a question on his tongue, then almost jolted when he realized what they were.

Stretch marks.

He hadn’t dared touch him too intimately since that night a month ago, and he hadn’t seen him naked, either. He should’ve known that what happened would continue to affect his body, but seeing it so blatantly, like a roadmap of exactly how he’d harmed him, how he’d forced this upon him against his will, it hitched his breath, ignited something dark and painful in his chest.

“Akira?” A hand brushed through his hair, gentle and encouraging.

He couldn’t go back in time. He couldn’t change what happened. But right now, he could make Ryo feel good, instead.

He kissed the rest of the way down, down to his underwear. He licked a stripe over his warmth before dipping his fingers beneath the fabric, teasing back and forth, delighting in the way his thighs quivered, the way he sighed, soft and pleased.

He tugged his underwear down then ate him out in earnest, tongue laving through his folds, pushing inside. When he gave some much-needed attention to his clit, he gasped, thighs tightening around him.

Thrilled that he’d gotten him so close in such a short time, he almost smiled into the space between his legs.

“Ah, Akira!” He sounded as delicious as he tasted, high and breathless. “Wait, stop. Wait a second!”

He froze. Did he do something wrong?

He pulled back, and Ryo scooted away from him, sitting up on the mattress. A flush spread over his pale skin, and he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Ryo, are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine. It was just my . . . It felt like . . .” A shaky sigh fell from his lips.

Akira’s gaze trailed downwards, lingering on his breasts. As gorgeous as ever, they hung lower, areolas darkened, nipples . . .

Oh, a tiny drop of white beaded at each nipple. He thought the problem would be something worse than milk, like he’d changed his mind or gotten hurt somehow. An injury from eating out didn’t seem likely, but he was understandably paranoid.

Slowly, he reached towards him, watching carefully for any signs of hesitation. “Could I . . . ?”

Biting his lip, he nodded, so Akira swept the pad of thumb over the very tip of one of them, collecting that moisture and making him shudder. He felt an urge to stick it in his mouth, see what it tasted like, but that seemed weird, so he wiped it on the sheets, instead.

“Do you wanna keep going?”

Still breathless, he said, “Yeah, there’s shit in the drawer. Could you get it?”

Opening the nightstand revealed a new box of condoms and a bottle of lube.

 

Slow and steady, he worked him open before pushing inside. His whole body sang with each thrust, and he couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off him, kissing him, caressing him, doing everything in his power to make him feel good.

Occasionally, thin streams of milk trickled down from Ryo’s breasts, and even more flowed out when he came, clamping around him, blunt nails digging into his shoulders. He followed soon after, nearly crying in relief. Not the relief of sating the demon, the relief that Ryo was right, that nothing bad happened.

After pulling out and tying off the condom, he hugged him, pulling him flush against his chest. “I love you so much,” he whispered, punctuating it with a kiss to the top of his head. He kissed him a few more times, moving down his face and making him turn away, laughing.

“Akira, the baby. We can’t go to sleep here.”

 

They took a quick shower together, and he spent the whole time marvelling over how beautiful his boyfriend was, how lucky he was to still be with him after all they’d been through.

Sometimes, he wondered if it haunted him the same way, the twisted bodies, the screams of terror, the senseless death, the blood, blood, blood on his hands, the walls, everywhere. Most of the time, Ryo seemed collected and in control, but fear hung at the edges of his actions, and he refused to talk about it much unless he was drunk. And that wasn’t often, anymore.

Pulling Ryo close to him in bed, his thoughts drifted to Kohei, to the poor thing’s future. A part of him hoped so badly that he’d never understand how horrible the world was, never face any kind of pain or hardship. He knew that shielding him from everything would only hurt him even more, but he still wanted to protect him, keep him away from the worst parts of his life.

He’d just have to love him the best he could and hope that was enough.

*

Ryo thought he’d be pissed, having to wake up early on a Saturday and get dressed all nice, but he appreciated leaving the apartment, going outside, actually doing something other than sitting around with the baby.

So, he stood with Akira and Mr. and Mrs. Makimura in front of a fuzzy backdrop like the ones used in school photos, bright lights and cameras pointed at him. Akira wrapped his arm around his waist and tugged him a little closer, casual but intimate and comforting.

He sort of wished that he held the baby instead of Mrs. Makimura. Traditionally, the baby’s paternal grandmother held them during their omiyamairi, since their mother was supposed to stay home and rest for one hundred days after birth, made somehow impure by the act of it. But that was an older part of the ceremony that became optional over time.

At least that meant he wasn’t the one who had to wear the costume.

The ceremony required the baby and whoever held him to wear specific clothing, and the studio provided it for little extra charge. A red kimono with a swirling, leafy design wrapped around both of them and tied around her back. And the baby himself sported a frilly bonnet and collar, the latter of which draped wide over the kimono, and a sour disposition that only grew worse as the photoshoot went on.

Maybe he didn’t like being held still in an unfamiliar get-up with bright lights and strangers, but maybe he just wanted one of his dads, and the thought made Ryo all the more glad to hold him again after it was over.

But he had to give him up once more when they got to the shrine.

Before walking in, Mrs. Makimura pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse and wrote the character for big, 大, on his forehead.

Thankfully, the ceremony itself was short. A priest prayed over the baby using their names and some of their information. However, when he waved a stick covered in white streamers, the baby’s attitude worsened even further, and he bawled and squirmed in Mrs. Makimura’s arms.

She tried to comfort him as the ceremony continued, bouncing him, hushing him, but he kept at it like the world was ending.

At the end, they were offered sake in little red cups, and after paying, they received a bag of trinkets, including a pair of chopsticks meant for the baby’s okuizome.

Even after Mrs. Makimura handed him back, he wouldn’t stop crying. At her suggestion, they’d been trying to establish a routine for him, keeping naps and feeding times consistent. This meant they’d know why he was upset depending on the time of day, at least, for the most part.

He shouldn’t have needed anything at the moment, but there he was, bawling his little eyes out. His diaper was clean, but maybe he was sick again or somehow injured. Mrs. Makimura suggested that he was just collicky, crying for no reason, but that didn’t sit right with him.

At home, he finally settled down. Ryo licked his thumb then tried to rub the lipstick off his forehead, but that only smeared it into a red, waxy mess. The thought of it being blood instead made him a little queasy.

Akira grabbed some tissues and wiped him clean. He frowned, brows furrowed, like something was bothering him.

“Hey, do you think demons would be affected by religious stuff? Like purification rituals?”

He gave him a look. “Do you mean like holy water? This isn’t _The Exorcist_ , Akira. They existed before humans did, so I don’t see why human rituals would have any effect on them.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the baby. “I meant the onusa at the shrine. Maybe it’s nothing, but I felt kind of weird when the priest used it.”

He thought back to the ceremony, how his baby had cried, loud and heartbreaking. If Akira really was suggesting what he thought he was, he hoped so fucking badly he was wrong.


	6. Where's The Rest Of You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG CONTENT WARNING!!!
> 
> The baby is briefly in danger. He ends up okay, but it's a horribly tense moment.

Kohei usually didn’t wake up crying. In the morning, one of his dads would either remove him from his crib soon after he woke up, or they’d already be holding him and wake soon after him.

But it was early when his baby’s crying roused Ryo and prompted him to go check on him. He figured a dirty diaper was the most likely culprit, so he wasn’t especially worried as he made his way over to the crib.

Looking inside, his breath hitched, his grip tightened on the rail.

Scratches pockmarked his little face, a few lined with pinpricks of blood.

None cut deep, and he typically didn’t consider himself to be squeamish, so it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. But for a good moment, he just stared at him, feet growing heavy, head growing light.

“Ryo?”

He snapped into action, picking up Kohei and heading towards the bathroom.

“Ryo, what’s wrong?” He heard Akira get up and follow him, close on his heels.

He paused, letting him see Kohei. “He fucking scratched himself or something.”

In the bathroom, he wetted some toilet paper and started wiping him down. Meanwhile, Akira rummaged around for something in the cabinets.

“Is that normal? Why would he do that?”

“I dunno.” Absent-mindedly, he glanced at the underside of the sheets to see faint streaks of red, stark against white, and that wooziness rushed back. It was funny, hypocritical even, how he could stab people and shoot demons then get tripped up by a few scratches not even as bad as papercuts.

Passing out while holding the baby seemed like a terrible idea, so he said, “Akira, could - could you take him for a second?”

He pulled out their first aid kit before doing as he asked and continuing where he left off.

Ryo sighed before putting it away again. “He doesn’t need any bandages. He’ll just tear them off, anyway.”

At almost three months old, he grabbed at everything. His dads’ faces, their hair, his blankets, the pages of the board books they’d read him. A bandage wouldn’t last an hour.

“Do you think you could call Akiko and ask her about this?”

He froze, heart sinking, before nodding and leaving to go grab his phone. He could do this. There was nothing to be nervous about. It wouldn’t be weird, he wouldn’t be bothering her, and he could use a moment sitting down, anyway.

He stared at his phone screen, finger hovering over the call button. No fear, no trepidation, he slammed that fucking button, brought it up to his ear, and waited through a few dial tones before she picked up.

The phone call was a massive success. He didn’t stutter, he didn’t hang up on her, and she said that the scratching was normal and that it’d go away. Apparently, Taro scratched himself, too, and had to wear little mittens to bed.

And maybe it was time to cut his nails again, try to minimize the damage he could cause. Ryo absolutely couldn’t do that, himself. Kohei had such tiny little fingers, and it seemed so easy to hurt him with nail clippers.

So, a few hours later, he made Akira do it, instead.

Carefully, he clipped them while he took a nap, and Ryo couldn’t watch.

“Ryo, everything’s fine. I’m not gonna hurt him. I should have you do this sometime, so you’ll be less nervous about it.”

He still wouldn’t look at him. “No thanks. I’m not touching that.”

“You know what, come here.”

He shook his head and stayed in place. Yes, he was fucking nervous, and that made it all the more likely that he’d mess up and hurt his baby.

Regardless, Akira came over and handed him the clippers, gently pressing the cool metal into his palm and giving him a reassuring smile. “Just one finger, alright?”

He followed him back to where he’d set Kohei, playing with the lever on top. Akira held one of his little hands steady. He took a deep breath, brought the clippers closer, almost squeezed his eyes shut before remembering that would be a bad idea, then cut his pinky nail without incident. He sighed in relief then quickly backed off, letting Akira take care of the rest.

“I knew you could do it.” He kissed him on the cheek before filing the sharp edges down.

*

The late nights, drawn-out fights, and danger of the demon-hunting lifestyle wasn’t exactly conducive to taking care of a new baby. So, they’d been taking a break. A very much needed and appreciated vacation at home.

“Akira, I have a lead on a demon.”

But, it couldn’t last forever.

“Any details?” He glanced up at him from the floor. He'd been playing with Kohei while Ryo sat on the bed with his laptop. Earlier, he’d been with them on the floor, but Kohei’s interest in the keyboard made that arrangement difficult to maintain.

“This old guy, Takeda,” he said, rolling onto his back then looking at him upside down. “His wife went missing, and his behavior’s been pretty suspicious since then. And a few other people went missing, too.”

He pulled Kohei onto his lap, and the little thing dragged a blue blanket along with him. He still had scratches on his face, some old and others fresh from last night. “What do you want to do?”

“He likes to go on walks in this certain park. If I’m right, he should be there tonight.” He righted himself on the bed. “I’ll stay here with the baby, and you’ll go confront him.”

 

When the time came for Akira to leave, Ryo stopped him at the door. “Be careful, alright?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it.” Confident that either Takeda wasn’t really a demon or that he would beat the demon quickly, he was sure his encounter wouldn’t last long.

He shifted Kohei higher, settling him more comfortably. He’d gotten much chubbier since he was born, and though his little cheeks were adorable, he was heavier, too. “I’ll come get you if you’re out too long. I’m not taking any chances.”

He kissed both of them goodbye, Ryo on the lips and Kohei on the forehead. “Love you. I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“Say ‘bye-bye’, you little shit.” He took one of Kohei’s little hands and made him wave.

Maybe he tried to say something, but it certainly wasn’t ‘bye’. At least he smiled.

Akira laughed and waved back before leaving.

 

A good-sized park dotted with trees, a winding trail around its edges, a small playset to the side, the sunset bathed them all in pinks and golds when Akira arrived. A mild chill coupled with the fact that it was a weeknight guaranteed that it was mostly empty. If a fight really did break out, that was ideal.

He strolled along the trail, looking for a face that matched the description Ryo gave him, a man in his early fifties with glasses and graying hair. Around another bend and copse of trees, and there he was, trudging by with his hands shoved in his coat pockets.

He ran for a second to catch up then tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, are you Takeda?”

The man jolted before turning and giving a slight nod.

There was no point messing around, so he grabbed him by the shirt and snarled, demon flaring beneath his skin.

At first, he shrunk back. Akira thought he’d made a mistake until he grinned, teeth sharp and eyes yellow. “It’s good to see you Am-”

He tossed him to the ground, losing patience. “Too bad for you, I’m not Amon.”

He looked up at him, furious. “Right, I heard you go by Fudo now, don’t you?”

He didn’t bother with a response, clenching his fists and trying to draw out the demon. However, as he quickly remembered, his transformation became slower after Kohei was born, the demon’s presence somehow fainter than before.

He took a few steps back, curses dancing in his head as Takeda had the gall to laugh at him. But he wasn’t Takeda, anymore. He almost seemed to implode before something yellow and writhing burst from the seams, glistening in the dim light.

Like always, he already knew its name. Jozon, an ugly slug with too many limbs sticking out at odd angles, grinned a lopsided grin then lurched towards him.

But he wasn’t even close to being fully transformed yet. An attempt to strike him, sludgy arms flailing, forced him back even further. He needed a plan, a distraction, something that would give him time to finish it, then he could rip this stupid fucker to shreds and go home.

But it said something, wet and low, that completely froze his train of thought.

“Where’s the rest of you?”

“Ryo couldn’t make it today.” He didn’t have time to reconsider telling it that or to wonder why it asked.

It cackled, trying again to land a blow. “Is that your little blond pet, Amon? I don’t care about him. I’m talking about _you_.”

Finally, his wings split his back, and he took off to get a better angle. He swooped down, aiming for its bulging neck.

“I can’t believe it!” It swatted him out of the air like he was just a particularly annoying fly, slamming him into the ground. “Why would you weaken yourself like this?!”

In a blind rage, he leapt up and rushed at him. “Shut up already!”

He gasped, pain erupting in his side. Where the fuck did a limb that sharp come from? It barely missed driving him through with it, instead grazing his side then curling around him, slimy and cold.

It yanked him close to its face, baring jagged, needle-like fangs. “Answer me, Amon! Where’s the rest of you?” Its tongue flicked out, long and yellow. “I want to snuff you out, every last bit.”

He refused to say anything, still not comprehending. Instead, he wrenched himself out of its grip. He thought he’d land on his feet, finally get his claws in there and rip it apart, but he fell flat on his stomach, forced to roll away when it tried to impale him.

He started to get up again, but an odd sensation coursed through him. Against his will, he began to transform back. He crawled away, panic rising in his chest, trying desperately to pull the demon back to the surface, but it was like it was draining out of him.

“Where are you going, Amon? Fleeing to another host won’t save you!”

Another host?

That didn’t make sense. How was that even possible? Who could it be? Wouldn’t he have known?

Akira’s heart stopped, the pieces clicking into place.

_Kohei!_

*

Ryo stood in the bathroom, waiting for the water to heat up. It was Kohei’s bathtime, and he squirmed, naked in his arms. He yawned, the yellow-ish light overhead making it seem later than it was, and of course the little thing tried to stick his hands in his mouth.

“Hey, don’t do that.” He stopped him, and Kohei looked up at him for a second before yawning, too.

He chuckled before kissing the top of his head. Poor thing must’ve been tired. But he needed a bath, and soon afterwards, they’d go check on Akira.

When the water warmed to his liking, he partially filled a little blue tub then set to work scrubbing him clean.

Kohei’s least favorite part was rinsing his hair. Despite Ryo’s attempts to keep soapy water from getting in his face, he always moved and ended up sputtering.

When he finished, he wrapped him up in a soft, hooded towel before carrying him back to the bedroom to get dressed. Little rabbit ears were sewn into the hood, much to his and Akira’s delight.

They had time before they needed to leave, and Ryo was happy to stay in the bedroom, maybe put Kohei to sleep. But they did have fudge pops in the fridge downstairs.

“Do you think you can try ice cream yet?”

Kohei looked at him, but of course he didn’t answer.

“Well, I’m your father, and I do what I want. Let’s go get a snack, baby.”

He took him out of the room and down the hall. During the first few weeks of Kohei’s life, Ryo refused to carry him up or down the stairs, making Akira do it for him. Falling down with his baby in his arms sounded like one of the worst things imaginable. Thankfully, for his sanity and Akira’s, he’d managed to get over it and carry Kohei wherever he wanted.

Maybe he should’ve still been scared.

He lost his footing between the first and second step, tripping forward in slow motion. He held Kohei close, trying to twist around so he’d land on his back with the baby on top of him. But he wasn’t a fucking acrobat, nor was he working with a lot of time.

Ryo squeezed his eyes shut, tensing in anticipation of a nasty impact.

In a way, he always knew this would happen. He was such a colossal fuck-up. He always had been, and he probably always would be. It made too much sense that he’d goddamn kill his own baby, make Akira hate him.

Or at least have to go to the hospital.

He thought he’d been holding Kohei tight, but he found that he wasn’t holding him at all when he tumbled down, knocking his head on the wall and ending up on the floor. His baby was crying, he could hear him, but why did he sound so far away? Was he losing consciousness?

No, as soon as he got his breath back, he realized Kohei was nowhere near him. Trembling, he pulled himself to his knees, nothing broken but definitely bruised.

When he looked up, he wondered if he’d hit his head harder than he’d thought. He could’ve sworn he could see Kohei sitting at the top of the stairs, wailing but perfectly fine, and two dark wings fluttering at his back.

*

After beating him to a pulp, asking over and over again where he’d hid the rest of himself and getting no answer, Jozon left him for dead to look for Kohei. Good fucking luck, bastard. The baby was safe with Ryo, and he’d never get his slimy mitts on him.

Akira groaned, trying one last time to get up, but he flopped back down once again. He felt a little faint, not a good sign, and every inch of his body hurt like hell. That goddamn slug dragged him behind the treeline, and he worried that Ryo wouldn’t be able to find him.

At least the stars were pretty tonight. He knew he could live through much more shit than the average human, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time he’d see them.

“Akira?”

His own shining star came down the path, so close by. He tried to say something to get his attention, but all that came out was a wheeze and a spluttering cough.

He worked his way through the underbrush and knelt next to him. “Oh fuck, Akira, are you - are you alright? Can you even get up?”

He shook his head. “Think this looks bad? You should see the other guy.” It wasn’t a funny joke, especially since he’d barely gotten a few hits in and spent most of the fight trying to get away, and it hurt too much to laugh at it. But at least it got Ryo to smile a little, eyes shining with tears.

He spent a moment checking him over, and when he leaned over to brush the hair from his face, sticky with blood, Akira noticed something. A smidge of dark red crusted under his nose.

“Why’s your nose bloody?”

He looked away for a second, wiping his face. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Fuck, that meant something was definitely wrong. Was he seeing things, or was there a lump on his forehead, too? But he didn’t have the headspace to dwell on it. He still needed to ask another question, an important one. “Where’s Kohei?”

“In the car. I couldn’t just leave him at the apartment.”

He took Ryo’s hand, unintentionally smearing it red. His own voice sounded far away when he spoke, “The demon, it’s still around. You have to get him out of here, and -”

“You’re coming with me, Akira. And if that thing makes a fucking move -” He opened his coat to reveal a sawed-off shotgun. “- I’ll take care of it.”

He needed to protest. Ryo didn’t understand what was going on, and he needed to tell him. Instead, he almost blacked out when he hoisted him into a standing position. He almost didn’t accept his support moving forward, worried that he’d topple him over, but he always forgot that Ryo was sturdier than he looked. He leaned heavily against him as he took him to the car.

Just before leaving, they caught sight of Takeda again. After helping him into the car, Ryo took off after him.

He lied down in the back the best he could with a carseat in the way. Like Ryo said, it was occupied by a sleeping baby, head lolling to the side, mouth drooling.

Could he really be a devilman just like him?

Watching him, his own eyes drooped, darkness taking over. Maybe they could just take a nap together.

He heard a commotion, ending with a few gunshots, and he remembered that it was a really fucking bad idea to go to sleep right now.

He needed to do something, anything to keep himself awake. He lifted his head a little, looking more closely at Kohei.

“Hi, baby.” He coughed. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna be okay. And Ryo - Dad - your dad, he already got the bad guy. And it’s okay. And you’re okay. And . . .” He rambled a little longer, insisting either to Kohei or himself that he was okay and everything would be fine, before Ryo got in the car.

*

Having no time to spare, certainly not with his boyfriend bleeding out in the back seat, Ryo sped towards the hospital, driving more recklessly than recommended with a baby in the car.

“Ryo?” He sounded bad in a way he hadn’t heard in a long time, faint but urgent.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Ryo, that fucking demon said Amon had a second host, and it’s Kohei. I know it’s Kohei.”

He wanted to slam on the brakes and beat himself senseless on the steering wheel. Thump his head repeatedly, honk the horn again and again into the night.

He couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with his head hurting and multiple bruises aching and his boyfriend bleeding all over his fucking car.

There was no putting it off. He had to tell him what happened. But honestly, fuck if that wasn’t the worst possible explanation for it, that even his baby wasn’t safe from all this demonic, apocalyptic bullshit.

But then again, he never was, was he?


	7. A Small Disaster

Akira took the news of his injury and endangerment of the baby as well as he could, no anger, no lecture on why he was a failure who couldn’t be trusted with Kohei. Just concern, questioning if he was alright.

And he figured he was alright for the most part. Shaken and definitely hurt, but not badly.

“Damnit, Akira, we need a fucking story. What are gonna tell the hospital?”

“Hit-and-run. Crossed the street and got ran over.”

He glanced back. Did that make sense with his injuries? He looked like someone stabbed him a few times then tossed him in a blender. At least he managed to retrieve some of his clothes.

“Okay, fine. But how did I find you then?”

He went silent, and Ryo started to worry he’d finally passed out until he said, “Either I called you or you called me, and we were on the phone, talking about something, and _then_ I got hit by a car.”

Neither of them were in any kind of state to create some kind of elaborate, believable story, so this would have to be good enough.

Akira laughed, soft and weary. “Now I can’t even go to Kohei’s okuizome on Sunday.”

“His . . .” Ryo had forgotten all about that.

He had to go to the Makimuras’ house dressed all nice and suffer through a party without Akira.

He couldn’t say it was worse than anything that had happened that night, but it was the anxiety-flavored frosting slathered on top of this disaster of a cake.

~

Ryo should’ve gone home, but he found himself sitting in the hospital parking lot on one of the concrete parking blocks right outside his car. It dug uncomfortably into his ass, and he was situated so close to the ground that his knees were forced up near his face. But his car smelled like blood, he was stuck somewhere between wanting to cry, throw up, or scream, and he just needed a moment outside.

Kohei was alright, still sound asleep. He’d checked on him a few times, and maybe he’d get up to check again, or walk around for a minute, or call Miki or somebody and tell them what happened.

Well, a fake version of what happened.

After brief consideration and a world-weary sigh, he decided to do all three, pulling himself back to his feet and patting around his pockets until he found his phone.

*

“Miki, you have to trust me,” said Akira, quiet and earnest.

Most of the time, she’d trust him without question. But he hadn’t came home last night, he never answered his phone or replied to any texts, and he barged into class in the middle of second period, uniform askew and hair disheveled. And was that eyeliner?

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Like I said, everything’s fine, but Ryo . . . He’s not in good shape, and -”

“No kidding, huh?!” She couldn’t help but snap at him, but a pang of regret hit her when he flinched and looked down. Shadows dappled the ground around them, cast from an overhanging tree she’d dragged him over to so she could get a moment of privacy with him during lunch and force out his story.

“He’d been drinking, hadn’t he? I could smell it on him.” That and sweat. Eyes bloodshot, hands twitchy, he seemed unstable, not like someone Akira would know. Not like someone that could make him light up like that. “And with the way he was acting, he was probably -”

“Miki! That’s not what I - Well, that’s part of it, but he’s in the hospital right now, and -”

She held up a hand, eyes narrowing. “Wait, wait, wait. Back up a second. You said you went to a party, didn’t you? What the hell happened last night?”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing up towards the tree, and Miki's suspicion grew. He wasn't making shit up, was he? “Well, something, uh, _someone_ fell on top of him, and . . .”

He continued, said something else, but she remained stuck on the image of that grubby, lanky bastard getting crushed by some dumbass at a party. How the hell would that even happen? Did someone drunkenly collapse on him? Did he get in a fight and someone decided to fucking sit on him?

She covered her mouth, trying to muffle herself before an entirely inappropriate laugh could burst out, and tuned back in.

“I just wish he told me sooner. I dunno why he thought he could deal with that alone, but he couldn’t.”

“With what? Getting squished?”

He stared at her, eyebrows furrowed. “No, his dad. Weren’t you listening? His dad died.”

“Oh.” That was more serious than she thought.

Akira sniffled, fists clenched. “I dunno if he even left that fucking house for a while after, or if he’s been eating much. Miki, I want to help him, but I don’t know what to do, and I just . . . It really sucks.”

“Hey,” she said, trying to soothe him, “If you care about him that much, all you have to do is show him. Just be there, talk to him and stuff. Everyone deals with tough shit differently, and I don’t know if there’s much more you can really do.”

~

_BZZT_

_BZZT_

Miki needed to get up early, so she considered ignoring her phone and going back to sleep. But it was just the beginning of the semester, anyway, and it couldn’t hurt to at least see who it was.

The name that blinked up at her from the screen took her aback. Ryo? He rarely bothered to text her let alone call her.

Was something wrong?

He certainly didn’t seem alright when she picked up, quieter than usual, voice thick with tears, and it didn’t take long for her to find out why. “It’s Akira. He . . . He got in an accident. He’s gonna be alright, but he’s in the hospital, and . . .”

“What about you? Are you okay? Was the baby in the car?”

The line went silent. A slight rustling, then he answered, “Yeah, I’m - we’re fine. It was just Akira.”

As he continued, haltingly weaving his version of events, Miki grew more and more dumbfounded and horrified. She couldn’t imagine how scary that must have been, talking on the phone with a loved one during an accident. Thinking about what that might have sounded like made her feel sick.

“I’m so sorry, Ryo.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine.” He sighed. “They said it won't be more than a few weeks.”

But on Sunday . . .

“Oh, we’ll have to push back Kohei’s okuizome, won’t we?” she said.

A pause. A quiet “Yeah.”

~

Ryo wouldn’t answer his phone, nor did it say that he read any of her texts, so Miki had no idea if he knew she was coming over. But there she was, knocking at the apartment door.

At least it didn’t take long for him to answer it.

“Hey, how -”

“What are you doing here?” He looked bedraggled, loose pajamas flung over his lanky frame, hair sticking up, a scowl both irritated and tired pulling down his face. He had the baby, who definitely pulled off the PJs and bedhead look much better than his dad could, or almost anyone else for that matter.

“Thought I’d drop by, see how you were holding up.” She shuffled a little in place, feeling awkward standing out in the hallway, but Ryo didn’t budge.

“I’m not the one who almost fucking died.” A dark mumble with no bite, the venom drained away.

“No, but I’m still allowed to be worried about you.”

He looked away, something like guilt flitting over his face, then finally let her inside.

Not wanting to keep standing by the doorway, she made her way to the nearest place she could try to make herself at home, the kitchen, and leaned on the counter. “So, uh, like I was saying, how are you doing?”

“Fine.”

She didn’t believe him for a single second. He’d obviously been shaken up by what happened, and he hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. But she wasn’t going to question him, no use getting him angry at her.

“My schedule’s bullshit this semester, so I have a break until two. If you’d like, I could watch Kohei while you get ready, and we could go visit Akira.”

He pulled a face and shook his head. “No, you don’t need - I’m ready. I could go right now. I just need to -” He glanced down at himself. “- put a bra on, uh, change my pants, grab a hat?”

Unamused, she said, “Ryo, go take a shower. Have you even eaten anything today?”

Wordlessly, he handed Kohei over and walked towards the stairs, but she had to stop him before he got too far. “Wait, does he need anything right now?”

“He should be fine.” He took the stairs a little slowly, but soon, he was gone.

She realized she hadn’t properly greeted the baby. “Hi, Kohei!” She grinned, looking down at him. "What’cha doin’, baby?”

Seeing as all he was doing was being held, the question was redundant, and he couldn’t even answer. But he seemed to like being talked to, smiling back and looking so much like Akira’s baby photos that it stirred an ache in her heart.

Glancing around, she saw a few toys by the couch, so she decided to sit there and see if he wanted to play.

For some reason, a comforter and pillow were shoved to one side. Maybe Ryo had wanted to be comfortable while watching a movie or something.

~

“So, do you wanna stop to get lunch before or after we go to the hospital?”

Ryo sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window. She thought they’d take his car over, but he’d insisted on moving Kohei’s car seat to hers, muttering something about needing to clean his own. “I’m not hungry.”

“Before then. Where are we going?”

“No, I said -”

“I heard you, but I know you’re full of shit. Where are we going?”

He sighed. “We don’t have a lot of time, so some kind of fast food place, I guess.”

~

She dunked a french fry in her Frosty, making sure to get a good scoop of the ice cream before shoving it in her mouth. “When did you get home last night?”

“I dunno. Late?”

Did he really have to be so short with her today? Sure, she told him he was full of shit, but the original plan was to _not_ piss him off.

And conversation-wise, he gave her fucking nothing to go off of.

“A lazy Thursday, huh? Didn’t want to get out of bed, so you took your blanket to the couch?”

He looked down, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, uh, something like that.”

Something was off. “Did you sleep there last night?”

Gaze still drawn downward, he nodded.

“Why?”

He floundered, seeming to choke on just the word “I” before sputtering, “I couldn’t go upstairs.”

It was nonsense, and he definitely knew it, lips upturning into a slight smile like he found it funny.

“Like, at all? You went upstairs earlier, I saw you, so what -”

“Just not with Kohei.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Ryo, that's stupid. You have a bed. He has a crib. Why would you make him sleep downstairs?”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off to add, “And don’t just say that you couldn’t.”

He sighed. “The other day I . . . I fell down the stairs, and I don’t want to fall with him.”

Oh, Akira had told her about that fear of his, about how he had to take Kohei up and down the stairs instead. But now that Akira was in the hospital . . .

“Ryo, if it was that bad, you could’ve told me, or somebody, or anybody.”

He raised his voice, not enough to attract attention, but enough to convey his exasperation. “Why would I bother someone that late?!”

That stung a little. Sure, he got on her nerves sometimes, but helping him would never be a bother. “It wouldn’t have bothered me or anyone else. I would’ve came even if it was two in the morning because you’re family, and I care about you.”

Understandably, he shot her an odd look. A younger Miki would’ve been aghast at what she’d said. Back then, he seemed like a dangerous kid who fucked around too much and stressed Akira out. He still had problems now, but he’d mellowed under Akira’s influence.

“I mean it, Ryo.” She kept her voice firm, not wanting to leave him room to argue. “I’ll check on you later, spend the night if I need to. Hell, if you need me to stay until Akira gets back, I’ll do it.” That would be easy, hardly an issue.

He wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

She smiled, leaning forward. “You’re gonna have to try harder to make me believe that.”

“Excuse me?” he said, stiffening in his seat.

“You heard what I said.” She settled back, crossing her arms. “You know it’s not bad to need help, right? Everybody does sometimes. Actually, all the time, and it’s normal.”

“Yeah, I know. I just . . .” He glanced at the baby in his lap.

“You can’t always be perfect, not even for him. Things get shitty, and you can’t just rely on yourself or Akira and push everyone else away.”

*

Ryo hung back while Miki greeted the man stationed at the desk and asked where Akira’s room was. But he stopped them before they could go on their way, flashing a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, but small children aren’t allowed to visit patients. It’s to prevent them from getting sick or bothering anyone. If one of you could wait with him in here, that would be really great.”

He started to tell her that he’d wait first, but she said, “Here, I’ll take the little guy,” and sat down with him in the cozy waiting area. “Run along, small child.” She waved a hand towards Ryo like she was dismissing him. “Don’t get sick or bother anyone.”

He shot her the best death glare he could muster, but she and the receptionist both snickered at him as he left.

The directions weren’t hard to follow, and he soon found himself walking into a cramped hospital room. Like the rest of the hospital, the whites and pastels and sickly veneer of cleanliness threatened to smother him, but finally with Akira again, he could breathe a little easier.

“Hey,” he started, but noticing Akira’s eyes shut, chest gently rising and falling, he smiled and softly shut the door behind him. He pulled a chair closer to his bedside then settled down.

An urge to touch him, take his hand, brush back his bangs, swept over him, almost leaving his fingers tingling. But he ignored it, not wanting to wake him up.

Bouncing his leg, he tore his gaze away, fixing it on the wall instead of his injured boyfriend. Tears pricking his eyes, all he wanted was to tell him he was sorry, but it wouldn’t help if he said it while he couldn’t hear him.

And he had a lot to apologize for.

Giving in, he rested his hand on top of Akira’s and gingerly brushed his thumb up and down the side. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered. “I’m such a fucking idiot. I never thought - I never even thought to ask for help. Miki or her parents could’ve watched Kohei, I could’ve went with you, and you wouldn’t be here.”

“In that case, I’m an idiot too.”

He pulled his hand back as Akira more wheezed than laughed at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“But you still love me.”

Smirking, he let his hand trail back towards Akira’s. “No, I can’t stand you, Akira. I’m just sticking around for the kid.”

That earned him another weak chuckle. “Oh, so now it’s not even about demons and shit. First, you were only using me to fight demons. Now you’re only using me for what? Child support?”

He couldn’t keep the joke going any longer, laughing as he intertwined their fingers, tears making themselves known once again.

They sat in warm silence, Ryo struggling to not cry outright until Akira broke it. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. I could’ve asked them to watch him, too, but I didn’t. An honest mistake on both our parts. And even if . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment, grip tightening. “Even if something had happened when you . . .”

The unspoken rest of the sentence hung heavy in the air.

“That wouldn’t have been your fault, either. And I wouldn’t have abandoned you after that.”

Sometimes, he wondered if Akira had gained telepathy along with all his other demonic powers and decided not to tell him just to fuck with him. But really, he’d always seemed to know exactly what was bothering him, exactly what to say to calm his fears.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Are you alright?” He sounded so concerned, like he didn’t know what saying something like that would do to him.

He nodded.

“Hey, could you come a little closer?”

Confused, he scooted the chair.

“Closer.”

He scooted it until he could scoot no more. “Okay what -”

“Perfect. Now, lean down.”

Oh, the sly fucking asshole was trying to kiss him. Happy to oblige, he did as requested and closed the distance between them.

He would’ve loved to stay like that for hours, stay until hospital staff kicked him out, but he knew how selfish the thought was. He had to pull away eventually.

“Sorry, Miki’s got the baby, and they’re both waiting for me downstairs. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

His face fell. “Aw, they didn’t let you bring the baby up?”

“Nah, they said he’d get sick or something.”

He snorted. “I don’t think demon fights, or I mean, uh, car accidents are contagious.”

He pushed the chair back and stood up. “Yeah, but you have to careful. Aren’t they fragile when they’re so little?”

“I’d think so, but they can’t be too fragile, or we wouldn’t be here any more as like a species.”

“I guess you’re right.” He paused, leaning on the backrest, reluctant to leave.

When Akira spoke again, he welcomed another chance to stall. “Bye, Ryo. Tell me how the okuizome goes.”

It struck him as kind of odd that Akira had assumed it would happen without him, like their lives could just go on like normal without him there. But he hadn’t thought anything of it when Akira had said it in the car, maybe due to that ‘me and Akira against the world’ mentality Miki was talking about. “They decided to wait until you got back. Probably because they couldn’t tolerate me without you there.”

“Don’t say that, Ryo. They love you, I know it.”

He knew he was probably right, Miki had said as much earlier, but he sighed, glancing away.

“Love you. I’ll be home in no time, I promise.”

He chuckled, finally moving towards the door. “Isn’t that what you said yesterday? Before you left?”

“Maybe, but it’s different this time. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

Ryo tried his hardest to believe what he was implying, that nothing else bad would happen any time soon. But that seemed naive, foolish even, considering how often they dealt with demonic bullshit.

Or maybe he was just paranoid.

*

Akira found it hard to sleep that night. It wasn’t his injuries; he could deal with those.

What he couldn’t deal with was the thought that the demon that warped his body and tainted his thoughts, the demon that distanced him more and more from the humanity he desperately wanted to protect, that the very same demon had possessed his child, had always possessed his child.

In a twisted way, the exchange made sense. He used the demon’s strength and power as his own, the demon used his body and the body of the man he loved to create itself a new host. But maybe that was the demon talking.

The whole situation felt dirty, unclean, like a perversion of human life and nature. Not only had he essentially raped his boyfriend, they’d both been forced to create a life against their will, a life whose fate was predetermined by a foul, uncaring creature. No baby deserved that.

He wished he could tear that thing right out of Kohei, pull all of it back into himself where the only person it could hurt was himself, but that was impossible. All he wanted was to protect him, but how could he protect him from something already buried deep inside him?

Like many times before, he tried to call to the demon, scream at it for what it did, beg it to leave his baby alone, but the demon remained silent. Perhaps it was better that they couldn’t communicate, that whatever consciousness the demon had laid dormant inside him. But he wanted it to pay. He wanted to hurt it like it had hurt the ones he loved.

Instead, all he could do was grit his teeth, punch the bed, and sob until his heart was numb and his throat grew sore.

*

For the first time in three or four nights, Kohei slept in his own crib. It wasn’t that Ryo wouldn’t take him upstairs; Miki’s presence ensured that wouldn’t happen again. The scratching got worse, and they’d found that the only way to make him stop was to hold him through the night.

“Just one night to see if he’s stopped for good, alright?” Miki had said before going to bed earlier. “And if something goes wrong, you’ll be right there, and I’ll be in the other bedroom if you need me.”

He’d nodded and went with it, but now, lying in Akira’s darkened room, he couldn’t help but worry he’d made the wrong decision.

At Akiko’s suggestion, he’d tried covering his little hands with mittens, but that had ended with the mittens discarded on the other side of the crib and his baby crying again. And something in the darkness screamed that this night would end in a similar fashion.

But Miki was right. He needed to let whatever would happen, happen, for Kohei’s sake.

 

Half past two, he woke to find his baby crying loud, red streaks down his face. Picking him up, he realized marks trailed down his back, as well, some leaving torn cloth in their wake.

He stood by the crib holding him, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent tears from spilling over, willing his body to not shake in fear for his child.

This was worse than before, and it made something click in his head.

Amon must have done this, transformed the poor thing, made him hurt himself, and Ryo couldn’t begin to fathom the reason why. If he was supposed to be another host, how would either of them benefit from harming him?

But he couldn’t linger on speculation for long, not when his baby needed him, so he took him to the bathroom.

Carefully, he undressed him and dabbed the red from each scratch, trying his best to comfort him with hushed words and affection. Soon, he fell asleep again in his arms, swaddled in clean, intact clothing. He ended up tossing the previous onesie under the bed to be discarded later where Miki wouldn’t find it.

If Akira was home, he wouldn’t have to worry about hiding anything from him. And maybe Akira would have dealt with this better, gotten the baby back to sleep faster, taken it with a grace and self-assuredness that Ryo would surely never possess.

Thinking about it ached, clenched something in his chest. At least he knew he’d be coming back soon, but Kohei had no idea. The way his little face lit up when he heard Akira’s voice over the phone or saw him in a video call damn near broke his heart.

He stroked the little thing’s back, careful not to rouse him. “Shh, it’s okay, baby.” He couldn’t hear him let alone understand him, but he added, “Daddy will be back soon.”

~

Ryo knew that Akira was waiting for him downstairs.

Ryo knew that Akira had came home less than an hour ago. He drove him there, after all. And that they had plans to go out to dinner and celebrate, just the three of them and an unhealthy amount of breakfast food.

However, he couldn’t get himself to budge from the top of the steps. Not with his baby in his arms.

“Ryo?”

“Just give me a minute!” he called back. He could do this. He just needed to get up and walk down the steps. Simple. Easy.

Slowly, he pulled himself almost all the way back up before changing his mind and sitting on the steps again, holding Kohei close. Funny how a dumb little scare that caused no serious injuries could make him lose trust in his own two feet.

If he didn’t move, he wouldn’t have to be nervous, and Kohei would stay safe. But he’d still have failed at completing a simple task, one that almost anyone could do unassisted.

“Ryo, are you alright?” He came back into view at the bottom of the steps, worry scribbled into the lines of his face.

The absurdity, the irrationality of his predicament hit him yet again, almost making him laugh at how ridiculous he was acting. Someone that loved him, who wanted to be around him and help him, was just a few meters away. Say the words, and he’d be right at his side, no questions asked, with a warm smile and all the patience in the world. He just needed to say them.

“Actually, I’m not. Could you come here?”

On cue, he thudded his way up, meeting him at the top. Gently, he helped him back to his feet then kept a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t meet his eyes, opting to stare past him at the wall, instead. “It’s nothing. I just . . .”

“Do you wanna switch?”

So, Akira took the baby, and Ryo took the diaper bag.

They ended up needing it more than usual when a small disaster involving diapers occured at the restaurant.

Now, this was the kind of disaster Ryo could handle. Not devastating, not painful, and with Akira laughing at his side. Too bad it was still messy.


	8. An Epilogue

Ryo stood nearby as Akira tied a sack to Kohei’s back. It contained a heavy rice cake with his name scrawled on it in red. He was supposed to try to walk as his parents nudged him off balance, but Ryo really didn’t want to make him fall.

Sure, he’d gotten so much better at walking without support, but he was just a baby. Tradition or not, Ryo felt bad for him.

He found himself reaching for the necklace under his shirt, toying with the band on its end. He didn’t like rings, he thought they were uncomfortable, so Akira got him a simple chain for it that he rarely took off.

When he and Kohei were moved to Akira's family register, only the baby’s name was changed. It wasn’t that he had a strong connection to his father’s family. In fact, he’d be surprised if they remembered he existed. But Ryo was never one for tradition, which was yet another reason why he didn’t want to go through with this rice cake thing.

“Ryo, he’ll be fine. And if he’s not, that’s kind of the point.” Akira grinned, finishing the knot.

Earlier, he’d explained that the inhibited walk represented the trials and tribulations of life, but, again, Kohei was just a baby. It’s not like he could understand metaphors and shit.

“Sure. Let’s get on with it, then.”

Thankfully (sort of), the two of them didn’t need to even touch Kohei. With everyone at the birthday party watching, he proceeded to fall flat on his face as soon as Akira let go. At first, he seemed shocked, stilling for a second and going quiet. But the crying came soon after.

“Damnit, Akira! I told you!” He scooped the bawling baby into his arms, quickly removing the rice cake. Hopefully, this tradition wouldn’t be some sort of prophecy.

While everyone else had a good laugh at the poor baby’s expense, Ryo couldn’t help but empathize. Life, even a metaphorical version with a rice cake, could be pretty tough. It bowled him over like that once a week at the very least. Hopefully, cake would cheer him up.

A western-style birthday cake sat on the table, white frosting, red lettering, and a band of strawberry jam in the middle. Akira’s favorite, if he remembered right.

Personally, he could do without the jam, but the cake part turned out to be pretty good. As he predicted, Kohei liked it, too, smearing frosting all over his face. When he wiped him down, he marvelled at how he’d somehow gotten it in his hair. But the birthday boy should be allowed to enjoy his cake however he wanted, right?

 

The attention and excitement soon left him all tuckered out, curled up in Ryo’s lap as he sat on the couch. The party would probably go on a while longer, lead to some adult nonsense like cards or drinking or both. Things Ryo would smash all of them at, if he bothered to. But for now, Akira wrapped an arm around him and let him snuggle into his side as he chatted with Akiko.

Ryo wasn’t comfortable with holding a religious ceremony, but legally, they were married. It still made him weepy sometimes just thinking about it. The kindest, warmest, most wonderful soul on the planet loved him, a failure and a certified idiot, and chose to stay with him. But was he really a failure if he’d managed to keep him around this long?

Of course, their life together was far from perfect. Demons and bloodstains and heartache trailed behind them wherever they went. And their son was thrust into their dangerous little world as soon he was born, the same darkness lurking inside him.

But with laughter and love, maybe they could figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I didn't expect this story to end up meaning so much to me when I started it. This was just supposed to be some stupid fetish porn, not an exploration of my complicated feelings about parenthood and babies and anxiety and relationships.
> 
> I want to give a quick shout-out to all of the white blogger moms with Japanese husbands whose first-hand accounts of the ceremonies depicted were invaluable.
> 
> And also, I have to thank my one-year-old half-sister for being a wonderful little kid, and for unknowingly helping her sister write weird Devilman fanfiction.


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